Living together problems

Working from home today, at eight o'clock I sorted the laundry basket and put a dark wash on, while husband prepared to go out to his keep fit class. At half-past eight, he appeared interestingly half dressed.

"I can't find my gym shorts." 

I don't know where he last had them, but I've just put a wash on, a dark wash, of any material dark that I found in the laundry basket, so I can guess where his dark blue gym shorts are now. Apparently he put them in the laundry basket a week ago. Does this make me a housewife failure or did I just too enthusiastically wash all the other things? I still have all the sheets and towels from last week's lodgers to wash too. Oh dear.
But such is life when living with anyone, and I've lived with someone for over forty years.  Whether they be flatmates or partners, children or spouses, if you're going to live with others, then you just have to get used to it, their problems and your mistakes, their mistakes and your problems. I'd rather live with someone than on my own.